Cleaning Out
by DinoDina
Summary: "Are you actually getting rid of the cardigans?" Sirius wondered. Remus nodded. Wolfstar fluff. Oneshot.


**Thanks to Liza for -ahem- _convincing_ me to write this and for looking over :)**

 **Words: 1402**

"Remus?" Sirius walked into the bedroom, shedding his jacket and boots near the desk. He looked around, not having heard an answer. "Remus?"

"Over here."

Well, _that_ was helpful. "Where 'here'?"

"Here." Remus said again, his voice less muffled.

Sirius turned around to see a hand waving at him. "Are you in the closet?"

"Yes."

"Haven't we gotten over that a few years ago?" Sirius chuckled at his own joke and walked over, carefully stepping over three large piles of Remus's shirts. "Why are you in there?"

"Because I can't come out. And no," Remus did not sound amused, "I'm not struggling to accept myself."

"Then why?"

"I'm stuck."

"You're what?" Sirius looked at the nearly-closed door, just wide enough to fit the hand Remus had waved with. Surely, Remus could just open the door!

"I can't get this stupid cardigan off the hanger!" There was a thump. "I've got myself tangled onto three different hangers, and I can't move because I'll tear it. And I'll break the hangers, and I've broken about seven already."

Sirius sighed. "Why are you in the closet?"

"Because I'm cleaning it out," Remus said plainly. "I told you about it… oh, last week?"

"…you're what?"

"I'm cleaning out the closet." Another thump. "You know, getting rid of old clothes."

"Getting rid of old clothes?" Sirius squeaked, finally understanding what the piles of cardigans and button-downs were all about.

"Yes." There was a third thump, and the closet door burst open. Remus, now having more room, unhooked himself from the hangers. He smiled in victory. "See the piles? They're no, yes, and maybe."

Sirius looked down, quickly counting the number of cardigans in the 'no' and 'maybe' piles. "Remus," he started carefully, "darling… are you actually, um, getting rid of the cardigans?"

Remus nodded.

"All of them?"

Another nod.

Sirius gulped. "For real?"

"Yes."

Without another word, Sirius ran from the room, grabbing his boots and jacket on the way.

.oOo.

"James, it's an emergency."

James, who had been cutting up potatoes for dinner, didn't even blink at Sirius's sudden appearance in his kitchen. He blinked soon after that, though, when Sirius silently walked over to him, because blinking is a natural body function.

"Did you hear me?" Sirius's voice raised in both pitch and volume the longer he talked. "James, I said we have an emergency!"

"I heard you the first time." James put down the knife and turned around. He leaned on the counter and raised both eyebrows. "Care to enlighten me?"

"Remus is throwing out his cardigans."

"Oh." James felt himself stagger, and was thankful for the countertop. "That's… Sirius, are you _sure_?"

"James," Sirius took on an eerily calm tone. "I'm dead serious."

"…I hate you."

Sirius grinned despite the heavy atmosphere, watching as James shut off the stove and put the knife in the sink. He washed his hands and led the way out of the kitchen, motioning to Sirius to turn off the lights.

"Are you sure?" James asked as he put on his shoes. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes," Sirius replied for the second time, knowing that such severe circumstances necessitated double-checking. He followed James out the door, locking it behind him and racing him down the stairs. "Come on, I've got the bike."

.oOo.

"Lily, it's Sirius." He spoke quickly, crossing her name off the list. "We have a problem."

On the other side of the room—they were in the much larger flat that Sirius and Remus were preparing to move into—James was talking to Regulus. "Can you make it to Remus's in an hour?"

Sirius said his goodbyes to Lily and dialed Peter. "It's an emergency. We need you. Now."

"Marlene, can I trouble you for a favor?" James smiled widely to make his voice sound more appealing. "Yes, of course… bring Dorcas with you, alright?"

Sirius had reached another school friend. Molly Weasley had multiple children and would know how to deal with such a situation. He began without preamble. "We're staging an intervention."

James, focused on explaining the plan to Kingsley Shacklebolt, another school friend, heard her shrill cry of "You _what_?"

"We're staging an intervention," Sirius repeated. "For Remus. Are you free in an hour? Good. Bring Arthur and the children with you."

James apologized to Kingsley. "Remus is acting strange, to say the least. He's panicking. Well, we're both panicking, to be honest… What's the problem? Oh, he's getting rid of his cardigans." Kingsley agreed and hung up before James could finish the word.

"James!" Sirius called, briefly putting the phone down. "Call Mad-Eye or nah?"

"You want to call our self-defense teacher?"

"It's a crisis!"

.oOo.

Sirius was the first to walk through Remus's front door. He did so with a steady stride, as if he owned the place. "Honey, I'm ho-o-ome!"

"I know!" Remus, unamused at the greeting he had to deal with on a daily basis, shouted from the bedroom.

"So…" Sirius wrung his hands. "How's the, uh, the cleaning going?"

"I've finished!" came the shout. Sirius heard some shuffling, and almost immediately, the man himself appeared. "I'm a bit of a mess, sorry, but I—Sirius? What's…"

James, Lily, and Regulus were cramped into the loveseat, Sirius standing by one of its arms. Dorcas and Marlene squished into the armchair, and the dining table was crowded with Arthur and Molly Weasley's numerous children. But if only that was all… Kingsley was perched on top of the armchair, Fabian and Gideon took up the coffee table, and it seemed like Remus's old teachers were crowded around his friends. And… oh, were those his _parents_?

James started the introduction dramatically. "This…"

"Is an intervention." Sirius continued, "You see, my dear Remus, I couldn't help noticing that you were being productive today, cleaning out your clothes and whatnot."

"And we've been told," Peter said, "that you were, well, getting rid of certain articles of clothing."

"And intervention?" Remus stared at the guests. With one eye, he followed the movements of a Weasley child. "That's… _insane_."

Sirius's eyes widened and he jumped over to Remus, taking him by the shoulders and resisting the urge to shake him. " _You're getting rid of your cardigans_!"

"Get this over with and let us go home," Regulus muttered, being heard only by those near him. Sirius shot him a withering look. "Shutting up now. But really… we're waiting."

Meanwhile, Remus didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Better yet, he didn't know how to explain to Sirius that the world wasn't ending. He settled for taking Sirius's hands off of his shoulders and holding them in his own.

"Remus?" he asked in a small voice.

"I'm not getting rid of all of them." He smiled patiently, because Sirius worked best under positive reinforcement. "I'll show you? Let you see for yourself that I've only got the seven unraveled ones ready for throwing out?"

Sirius nodded. "I just thought… you said you were going to get rid of them, and I saw the pile sizes, and you can't not wear cardigans, Remus! You'll-you'll cease to be sexy! Not that you can ever stop being sexy, it's just you're so much more when you have them, and I love you without them, too, please don't get the wrong… idea… you just kissed me."

"Yes."

"There's people."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because," Remus turned to the aforementioned people and raised his voice, "Thank you. We appreciate you all coming out here, but it seems like just a misunderstanding."

Slightly disappointed at the lack of a bigger scene—Sirius always made a little scene wherever he went—the visitors shuffled out. Remus awkwardly looked at his parents, still holding Sirius's hands.

"Remus, dear, are you sure?" his mother asked, his father nodding along to her words."

He nodded. "Mum, Dad… thanks, uh, we're fine now. Sorry for, well, a lot."

His parents followed everyone else out, leaving Remus with a still-slightly-panicked Sirius who refused to let go of his cardigan's hem. Rolling his eyes, Remus started walking towards the bedroom, giving Sirius no choice but to follow.

"Look." Remus threw open the closet door, displaying the woolen contents and the noticeable depletion in button-downs. Sirius's hold on his cardigan weakened. "Happy?"

"Very."

Sirius would have loved to show Remus exactly how happy he was, but there was more packing

to be done, and, more importantly, the bed had already been moved out.


End file.
